“That Evening at Bayaan — When the Mirror Spoke”
That day was utterly ordinary.
No new customers, no unfamiliar footsteps.
Naira was sitting by the window — with a black coffee and a white sheet of paper.
Beside her lay the same book — the one Zareen had given her.
Suddenly, the wind changed.
The door of Bayaan Café opened — but no one came in.
Someone stood outside — a boy, perhaps nineteen or twenty.
He held nothing in his hands, but his eyes carried fatigue —
as if several nights of sleep were trapped inside the cover of a book.
“Do you still have… that mirror?”
he asked.
Naira looked at him for a few seconds.
“Yes… it’s still there — behind the books.”
The boy quietly stepped inside.
He walked toward the shelf.
He didn’t look at himself in the mirror —
he looked at the shadow standing behind him.
“That’s not my mother… but every time I dream — it’s her face I see.”
Naira stood beside him.
“Does your dream ever say anything?”
“No,” he said.
“It just… waits. Every time.”
📖 “The Book That Couldn’t Be Closed”
The boy placed a book on the Café’s table.
Old, untitled.
Naira opened it.
On every page, there was a name — and beneath it, a question.
“When was the last time you smiled?”
“Was it a goodbye, or just fear?”
“Has anyone ever listened to you — without you speaking?”
“This book isn’t mine,” he said.
“But every question feels meant for me.”
Naira asked him, “Do you want to answer them?”
“No,” he replied.
“I’m just looking for the question —
for which I already am the answer.”
The evening began to fade.
Naira once again brought out the broken bell —
the one someone had left outside the Café years ago.
The boy looked at it — and paused.
“This… what did it sound like?”
Naira softly replied,
“Like someone had finally been heard — without calling out.”
The boy quietly placed the bell to his ear.
No sound came —
but his eyes began to glisten.
“It was this bell’s sound with which I called my grandmother for the last time,”
he said.
“After that… nothing ever became a sound again. Everything just… turned into lines.”
Tagline: Some answers don’t return in words — they dissolve into silence and come back quietly.
Glimpse:
In this episode, Naira tells the story of a boy who kept running from questions…
until he found the mirror — where his true face stood behind him.
“Bayaan’s New Wall — The Mirror and the Knocks”
Now, Bayaan Café has a new wall —
where anyone can write a name and a question beneath it.
No one answers them.
But every Saturday, the wall slowly changes its place —
sometimes leaning inward,
sometimes trembling in the outer air.
People say,
“If your name and question are the right ones —
the mirror smiles at you, just once.”
🩶 “Bayaan’s Return — When a Voice Echoed in the Air”
The white doll kept in the corner of Bayaan Café — was still there.
There wasn’t even a speck of dust —
as if someone came quietly every day to clean it.
Naira often sat in that very place —
where that girl once sat on the floor, drawing only lines.
Naqsh-e-Khamoshi was now full of those lines.
Every line was a name…
a sigh…
a doorway.
And then — one afternoon… when the sunlight was soft, like a candle…
She returned.
☁️ “The Girl Who Forgot Her Own Silence”
She didn’t look the same anymore.
Her hair wasn’t loose now —
they were tied up neatly, like a schoolgirl who’d arrived late to class.
There was no doll in her hands anymore.
Instead… she held an old book — its cover looked like it was made of eagle feathers.
She quietly sat before Naqsh-e-Khamoshi.
For several minutes, she just watched…
Then her fingers began to move —
but this time, instead of lines, words began to form.
Slowly… softly.
“Do you know… why I came back?”
she asked Naira.
Naira smiled — it was the first time that girl had spoken.
“Why?” Naira asked.
“Because… this time, I want someone to listen to me.”
✍️
Now the girl sits at every table in the Café —
she watches every face, reads every silence.
And she writes everything…
But this time, not for herself — for someone else.
She completes the stories —
that were once left unfinished…
Of a mother whose son stopped calling her…
Of a friend who was always afraid of goodbyes…
Or of that girl who still fears the alleys of her childhood…
She has made a new corner —
behind the Café, near the window.
Where only she sits.
And in front of her hangs a small signboard:
“Say it — if you cannot speak it.
I will write your story… in the same air where you once left only your breaths.”
🎙️ Podcast Episode Title: “The Return of the Listener”
Tagline: Some people, when they return, don’t bring back their own heart — but someone else’s.
Glimpse:
In this episode, Naira tells the story of that girl’s return —
the one who once drew lines in the air,
and now has become the truest storyteller of Bayaan.
🌾 Bayaan Café Now:
Now a new notebook lies in Bayaan Café —
titled:
“Those Whose Tongues Are Silent.”
It has no author.
Only the stories of those faces —
who once came to the Café, sat quietly… and then left.
That girl… now adds new tales every Saturday.
Sometimes from her silences,
sometimes from your eyes.
Hello beautiful readers,
I’m Afsana Wahid, the writer of this story. 🌸
No matter which country or corner of the world you’re reading from —
I’d truly love to hear your thoughts.
Please send me a message or leave a comment and tell me how you felt about this story.
Your words mean the world to me! ✨
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